Joftrakloo Troll Shaman
by SugarRequired
Summary: Joft is just trying to finish his shaman training soon he finds out that his cousin has married out of fraction, he is looking for love and dealing with the effects of the elemental upheaval. Just when things start to settle down a raiding party comes...
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, I am back finally was able to pound out another addition for those who may or may not been waiting for it. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I did writing it. There is reference to two of my other stories Tej'lie frost mage and Athrum of Nagrand reading them will bring clearer understanding for this one. Though I tried to make it work independently. Let me know what I need to do to improve that aspect (nicely of course). There are many times when the trolls are speaking their native tongue so don't get upset with my inconsistency of the accent. Enjoy!**

**World of Warcraft is owned by Blizzard. I create characters and twist them for my own pleasures. **

_Chapter One: Orgrimmar_

The dawn was just peaking over the massive orcish city, though it never really slept, it was growing even louder as more of the inhabitants began the endless rebuilding of the city. Most of the walls were covered with scaffolding. The city was still recovering from Deathwing's return to their world. It has been slow process for they were far more determined to build stronger and better than before. Instead of the place, Joft remembered it, a place where friends gathered after a long day, Orgrimmar had a military stiffness that infused in all the inhabitants.

Joft pushed those unhappy thoughts out of his mind as he rushed over the harden road, his dark waist long braids trailing behind him. The troll danced around an orc guard that had stepped out of the tanner shop, the shaman left a word of an apology in his wake which was wasted on the grumpy male. Joft tightened his grip on the books that were nestled in his long arms. He willed his legs to move faster, his spirit was willing but his body had other ideas. He remember a time not long ago, he could run all day without much bother. Now a jaunt from his room at the inn to his teachers flat made him sick.

Joft turned around the corner into the Valley of Spirits, a troll dominated suburb. It was nestled close by the goblin slums which had a nasty taste of burning metal and other things he didn't know the names of. All he did know was that it smelt bad and made him even sicker if he lingered nearby too long. Part of the reason he couldn't take his Aunt's offer to stay at her flat during his lengthy stay, and why he was staying on the other side of the city.

His bare feet slapped against the wooden walk that had been built over the marsh that had spread over the entire area, another result from the cataclysm that hit their world. The trolls flats were wooden platforms that were in several levels up the walls of the city, they were covered with a hide or canvas over a wooden frame for privacy. The flats were richly decorated with the bright and bold patterns of the Darkspear tribe. Stringed beads and other colorful fabric made up the doors, which were mostly tied open to allow the warm breeze warm up the interior. The trolls that were already milling about were in equally vivid color clothing, unlike the young shaman who wore a simple linen shirt and pants. His more stylish clothing were laying in his truck in his rented room, he didn't have time to change this morning.

Joft was working so hard to keep his bundle from spilling and not knocking into people off the narrow boardwalks, he didn't notice an orc warrior riding his wolf down the path. Joft looked up at the last moment and flung himself out of the way. His feet sank into the soft earth giving him a buzz from the earthen element in the back of his mind. The cold water around his legs sang of energy before the temperature was noticed by the shaman. The orc laughed as he continued down the boardwalk, the political tensions between their peoples seemed to make the orc's even more rude to his kind. Joft gritted his teeth, he pulled his foot free from the clinging mud with a loud squishy sound.

"Joft," a deep voice called from the edge of the boardwalk. "What in the name of the elements are you doing in the muck?"

It was good to hear his own language again, being running around with other members of the Horde he had been forced to speak orcish tongue. He swore he would forget his native speech if he didn't return to the Valley of Spirits as often as he did. Joft blinked at the the witch doctor Umou, his teacher, who wore a white mask over his blue face. Joft laughed wiggling his toes in the cold mud. "It is good for the skin, at least that is what I have heard."

"I hope you haven't messed up my books," Umou said reaching for the tomes in his students arms.

"I don't think they were damaged. I had a good hold on them," the shaman passed each book over, glad to have the burden relieved. If he had not overslept due to his late studying he might have ended up hip deep in the marsh. The fact the older troll was pouring over the state of his tomes didn't escape the student shaman. Joft turned his attention to working himself free of the mud and cold water, hands of his fellow tribesmen aided his freedom from the swamp and he once again stood on the boardwalk. "Thanks for your help," he said to his peers who all patted him on the back or grinned before leaving him dripping on the boardwalk.

His amber eyes land on the back of his teacher who was still fussing over the books as he moved toward his flat to return them to their shelves. Joft understood the protective feelings over the knowledge hidden in the pages. Books were not something that was common before the tribe was relocated to the horde lands. One thing he was very grateful about the orc's was the knowledge of his present path as a shaman and the delightful books that came with it. If he could, he would gather a great library he would let anyone read. Such an endeavor would take gold he didn't currently have nor the space. That meant settling down, the young troll snorted as he started toward the inn where he started this morning.

He knew if he wasn't a member of the horde he might have several wives by now, a witch doctor more than likely, performing rites to please the spirits. He had a strong talent with the magical arts that was discovered early in his life. His gaze swept over a few of the females who had been liberated from their lives of being wives and mothers to the careers of their choice. He had not met a woman that just wanted to be a wife and mother to his children. Most wanted to have the freedoms they have gained and the rest was almost forbidden to speak about. Joft put a palm on his forehead, he felt lightheadedness rolling over him. The worse of the sickness was over but he still was plagued with waves of dizziness and weakness.

"Jo!" Yum called running toward his cousin, he fell in step with the shaman. "You will never guess what Mother had received the other day."

Joft let his hand drop to his side, eyeing the shorter male with short tusks, his green hair tied back showing off his bushy sideburns, and as always Yum smelt heavily of fish. Joft wasn't in the mood for guessing games. "I doubt I would."

Slightly disappointed that his cousin didn't fall in with the unwritten rules of the game, Yum decided to tell his secret anyway. "Tej," he said with a laugh. "She is married."

Joft's brow knitted with confusion, he knew the struggles of his cousin had to fight through to gain her independence. This didn't sound like her, she was set very strongly against marriage of any kind. "She swore she would never marry? Are you sure it is the same Tej'lie?"

"I don't know any other, do you?" The young troll laughed. "That isn't the best part!"

This was concerning at best, he wouldn't rest until he knew more. He was torn between going to his aunt, Tej'lie's mother or his room to gather his things and travel to Shattrah directly.

Yum continued with his fit of laughter until he was holding his sides. "It is draenei!" He said between breaths, his face grew even bluer as he attempted to control himself.

Joft left the young cousin sitting on the boardwalk holding his sides. He moved swiftly toward the back of the city walls near the door that led to the Barrens. A nice breeze swept through the massive gate when he stepped up to the doorway of his aunt's flat. Joft brushed away the clay beads strung over the doorway, soft weeping floated from within. "Aunt?"

The green haired female quickly wiped her cheeks and pushed herself away from the table and stood. "Joft," she said smoothing her skirts. "So Yum found you?"

"Yes," he said reaching out toward her, her small hands grasped his larger ones. "Tell me, I could barely understand the message."

She nodded to the scroll on the table, she squeezed his hands. "Have you eaten?"

"Not this morning," he answered moving toward the table, he carefully lifted the parchment and read the elegant handwriting. His aunt busied herself with preparing food, she needed something to do or he knew she would start crying again. Females were such tender creatures, well, most of them were.

He slipped into a chair before his knees could give out fully to read. He had to go through it twice to fully understand the whole message, he laid it on the table top as the food was almost finished. "She sounds happy."

His Aunt slammed down the frying pan. "A draenei," she yelled, tears threatening to surface again. "What in the name of the spirits would possess her to shame us like this?"

"It is different in Outland," he whispered as the plate was dropped in front of him. "The fractions are blurred."

"She is a troll, Jo. She will never be able to have children," she slipped into a chair beside him and grasped a hand with both of hers. "Please, can you go speak to her. Try and talk some sense in the girl, she will listen to you because you wear the shaman mantle."

He covered her hands with his free one and nodded. "I will pay her a visit. But I cannot promise anything."

"Thank you," she whispered as if all her problems were solved.

The meal was spent talking about her son, who seemed to only want to fish. All subjects with Yum around ended up about fishing, the lad had more tackle than most of the old fishermen around the city. "He is selling his catches and saving up for a boat," she informed her nephew. "Can you imagine him on the waters? I fear the day."

Joft chuckled with a nod.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Shattrah City.

Joft hadn't slept well that night, his dreams plagued him constantly about the whole attack on the city. Guilt held him fast for not helping those who were suffering around him while he was too sick to attend even himself. It was never a good way to start a new day.

He adorned himself with his dark leather armor, and strapped his weapons so they dangled from his belts. He moved at a good clip to the Cleft of Shadows, a subterranean level of the city, where the portal master had set up shop. Which was of course, closed for the day. He let out a breath of frustration when a goblin mage stopped short and cursed. "Do ya create portals?"

The small figure peered up his full seven feet, craning her neck to look into his face. "Yes," she answered finally and he crouched down so they could see to eye to eye. "Thanks, friend."

Joft pulled some gold coins from his pouch and dropped them into her palm. She set to work instantly with her stone. "Where to?"

"Shattrah," he said and she gave him a sideways glance. He knew he appeared the only place he should be traveling was to a bed. The portal was opened a few moments later and he stepped through the humming doorway which shut at his heels. He took a deep breath of the shift in climate, the hot, dry and chaotic was replaced with cool peacefulness. His gaze landed on the floating energy creature in the middle of the Terrace of Light. He gave the being a half smile before leaving the terrace moving swiftly toward Lower City. He had not seen his cousin for nearly a season now, he had never told her he was studying the shaman arts. He was planning to do that after he was finished with his training at Orgrimmar, now nearly half a season had passed because of the lingering illness which made him farther behind than the other students he knew.

He had been affected horribly during the upheaval of the elementals, he had never been so sick in body or spirit during that time. He lost two months of his life to the sickness and half awareness beyond his own body. It was like the elements were fighting for control over him, pulling, tugging and jerking in a dozen different directions on his spirit at once. His poor mortal shell wasn't able to cope very well, so it reacted with fevers, vomiting, dizzy spells and blackouts.

The very thought of it all made his body shiver, he leaned against a wall to take deep calming breaths. The other shaman suffered from the same sickness, but recovered relatively easily. He couldn't make out why he was the one who continued lingering in something he should already be healed with. Trolls could regenerate at an rapid rate, his body seemed to be rebelling from that racial trait.

"Are you alright?" A concerned voice said in a strange accented Zandali, a two toned hand rested upon his shoulder.

Joft lifted his gaze to a draenei priest standing before him, he gave him a long puzzled look and a smile slipped over the other's lips. "You speak Zandali?" He wore dark green and black robes that would be more a trolls taste and style.

The draenei nodded with a warm smile on his face. "You appear very shaken, my friend. I saw you step from the portal. If it affects you like it does me, you need food. My wife will have dinner ready soon, she always makes enough for an army."

He didn't have the heart to correct him, he merely nodded. He needed to see Tej'lie but he wasn't feeling exceptionally well at the moment. To his amazement they made their way to a tailoring shop, which had a new level on the top of the living quarters. From what it appeared, the new level had been just finished. "Wife?"

The priest nodded. "We are a blended family. We are very happy," he said firmly as he opened the door.

"Daddy!" A little girl yelled her little hoofs thundering over the floor and sprang into the priest's open arms. Another small set of footfalls came from upstairs and pounded down, a small troll emerged with a huge smile on her face. She too, was hugged and kissed by the priest, once they noticed the guest they grew very shy and hide behind the draenei's robes.

"Please sit," he said, waving to the familiar chair near the hearth that still had the cloak draped over it. The fire was out and the pot was empty sitting next to the chair, the only thing different about the shop was the children's toys scattered behind the counter and a few sat on top.

"Glesig," a voice called from upstairs. "Why are you home early? Not that I mind, I really could use some wild..."

Joft watched his cousin move downstairs and she mis-stepped almost fell on her face. She caught the walls to keep her balance as she stared at the troll near the hearth. "I found him about to keel over," Glesig stated as worry trampled over his features. "Tej'lie?"

"Jo."

"Tej," he answered with a nod of his head.

"You know each other," Glesig whispered and moved to his wife, the mage grabbed her husband's arm and finished descending the steps. They both worried that this would happen after she sent the letter, she wanted her family to know she was happy and found love. It had taken longer than expected to have a reaction.

"So Ma got my letter?"

"She did," Joft answered. "Yum laughed his tusks off, your mother cried."

Tej'lie felt Glesig step closer and wrap an arm around her waist, she bit her lower lip as she absorbed this information. She had hoped they would have overlooked the racial aspect. "And you?"

"I am happy you found peace and love," his gaze flickered to the draenei's face than back to his cousin who was clearly living out a dream she never thought she would have. "You know I am very happy for you."

Tej'lie ran to him with tears in her eyes and embraced her cousin, clearly the two had much practice of getting around the long tusks the shaman sported. "I am so glad," she pulled away, concern stamped on her features. "You are shaking like a leaf."

His knees gave out, he sliced her arm with his pointed tusks. The wounds sealed themselves as she helped him into the chair, the priest moved closer ready to heal. Tej'lie knelt in front of her cousin tucking a braid behind his pointed ear. "I am alright, I am still recovering from the whole affair."

"Which one?"

"Deathwing," he said, wiping a hand over his brow which was covered in sweat. He noticed the priest touching his two toned hand and looked ill as well. "The elemental rage and disharmony affected me badly, I fear I was on the edges of it when you happened upon me, Glesig."

"What are you talking about, Jo?"

"I am a shaman, Tej. Have been for a while now. Went to Orgrimmar for training before all broke loose."

She punched him in the arm. "When were you planning to tell me?"

"When I returned," he said sheepishly.

Tej'lie sobered watching her cousin silently suffering, she caressed his fuzzy hand. He had never gotten sick ever during the time they were growing up. It was he that always had the job of nursemaid. "I felt the quakes when we were at Booty Bay, I couldn't imagine being a shaman during that upheaval," she whispered, she rose and poured him a glass of water. She had to try several times to get him to drink, finally the cool water was sipped at.

"So you were in the old country when it happened?"

"Yes," the mage whispered glancing at her husband. "Both of us."

Joft nodded and took another sip from the glass before turning his attention to his weapons, he unbuckled the belts and sat them down on the floor. "Is that what happened to your hand, Glesig?"

"If it wasn't for my mage, I would have burned in the lava."

A gloomy mood settled over the adults, Joft shifted slightly and cleared his throat. "Tell me about your children, Tej. You didn't mention them in your letter."

"We adopted them about a week ago," she answered studying him not liking the paleness of his skin. "I sent the letter nearly a month before. I guess with all that had been going on, it wasn't able to get to you right away. Fern," she pointed at the little troll who slipped out of sight behind robes again. "Ruby." The draenei child waved at him with a huge smile.

Joft waved at her and she giggled into Glesig's shoulder.

Tej'lie rose to her feet again. "I better finish dinner before we all pass out from hunger," she passed by and Ruby who reached for her. She took the small child from her husband's arms, and the little troll was quick to latch onto her mother's skirts and the trio went upstairs.

Glesig sat at the loom chair. "You are a relation?"

"Cousin," he informed him and leaned back on the chair. "Our mothers are sisters. I am glad you were able to capture her heart. She had a rough childhood."

"I know," he whispered.

Joft leaned forward and gave the draenei a hard look. "Hurt or abandon her, I swear to you I and the elements I command will find you. I will show you true meaning of pain."

Glesig chuckled and nodded. "I was wondering if you were going to give me that talk," he held up a hand. "She is the only person who would tear me away from her. I love her with all my heart."

Joft nodded and leaned back in the chair spent, his eyes closed. "Than I am happy for you both and very envious."

"You will find the right woman for you," Glesig said feeling a little more relaxed. "I was where you were not that long ago and all things worked out in the end."

Soft snoring came from the shaman and the priest chuckled before moving upstairs to help the family with dinner. "I have heard of this sickness that has your cousin," he stated as he gave his daughter mugs to put on the table.

"Is it curable?" Tej'lie asked still very much concerned by her cousin's welfare.

"From what I heard, most snapped out of it with no lasting effects," Tej'lie glanced at her husband worry deepened in the lines of her face. "I think he should go to the Throne of Elements in Nagrand. There they might be able to help him better than any priest. From what I understand, it is a very sacred place for them."

"Than we shall get him to go," she answered as she pulled out the roast from the oven. A cooling breeze swept through the open windows and she fanned herself with the oven mitt. "I think I should have gone with a salad."

"The meal will put some meat on that boy's bones, he appears to be skin and bones."

Tej'lie chuckled at his concern. "He has filled out a lot since I had seen him last, all that fighting and spell casting has been good to him in most ways." She turned away from the others to keep her tears private, loving arms wrapped around her. Glesig kissed her cheek. "I am so scared for him, Glesig."

"He will be alright, we just need to get him to the Throne. Only they will be able to help him cope, who knows the elementals better than those at the Throne? The Mag'har clan has already defeated some great odds I am confident they will be able to help him."

She mutely nodded clinging to his arms for a long while before tending to the meal, her daughters were standing together staring at her, as if they too might burst into tears. "It is alright my sweets," she said gathering them in her arms. "Mommy is just worried about Uncle Joft. He isn't feeling well." She spoke to them quietly for a while longer before they seemed to understand as much as they could. She started dishing their food and cutting up their meat while Glesig ducked downstairs.

Joft blinked at the draenei his hand went for a weapon that wasn't there, as he growled showing his pointed teeth. Than he realized who the draenei was and where he was sitting, he shook his head. "Sorry," he whispered. "I was a little disoriented."

"It is alright," he answered and waved for him to follow. "Dinners ready."

Joft pushed himself off the chair and straightened his back with a couple bones popped and he groaned. He was too old to be sleeping in chairs, though it had given him some much needed energy. He followed the other up the narrow stairs to the family space. It was cramped but felt like a home. They ate dinner with conversations that was friendly for little ears.

Ruby felt friendly enough to sit on Uncles lap after the meal had been cleared away and show him a book of pictures she had recently received. Joft enjoyed the little girls company and her remarks about the pictured animals that contained in the book. He wanted children of his own, each day passed brought him closer to that dream being lost forever.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Garadar in Nagrand

"Stop fighting me about this," Tej'lie said poking her finger against her cousin's chest with each word. "You will take the taxi I paid for and go to the Throne. You said yourself last night it was at least something to try."

"But I will go on my own coin," he said equally as stubborn. "You have a family to feed and support."

"Which we are doing just fine, thankyouverymuch. I can do this for my favorite cousin."

"Fine," he whispered throwing up his hands. "I am beaten."

"Good," she said. "The innkeeper is expecting you and has a space for you."

Joft gave the mage a hug. "Thank you," he whispered, he said his farewells to the others before moving toward the wyvern that was waiting for him. The master gave the creature a command and they were air born a few moments later. The shaman waved at the little family until he couldn't see them anymore, he settled in the saddle and braced himself for the long journey head of him.

Nagrand was one of the places he had not yet visited in Outlands. He wanted to finish his training before entering this place, he felt he needed to be well rested and fully trained before tackling anything Nagrand had to offer. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be doing any sort of tackling anytime soon.

The green and yellow grass plains spread out beneath him, he could smell the richness of the landscape. It reminded him of the savanna of the Barrens but much more greener and with more trees. There were large bodies of water and large creatures wandering about the rolling hills. There was something in the air that stroked him spurring awake his deep rooted magic.

The moment the creature landed, he slipped off the back and was overwhelmed with the sensations. Friendly hands caught him as he fought to stay upright, the welcoming was deafening from the elements they caressed his damaged spirit. "It is alright, shaman," a strong feminine voice said.

"I have to go to the Throne," he mumbled as his vision blurred and he was taken into the massive round building nearby. A plate of food was pressed into his hands and he was sat down near a hammock. He forced himself to eat cursing his delicate nature, by the time he finished he was too tired to see straight. He curled up on the hammock and slept.

In his dreams, he went through every moment of the sickness yet again. He fought uselessly against the weakness that left him unable to help anyone who had been suffering around him. His healing spells had gone unused as people were licked by dragon's fire. Things burned not cooled by the water he could have summoned. Guilt rolled through him as his soul screamed for solace.

Joft was shaken awake, tears were streaming down his face. His body was on fire, his brain felt like it was whipping through a hurricane. "I need to go to the Throne," he whispered.

"Let me get a warrior to escort you," the keeper of the inn said. "Try to drink something while I am gone."

Joft merely nodded but made no effort for the glass that was sitting near the hammock. He was just so sick he wanted the pain to end. Something was going to give and he was afraid it would not end well for him. He was glad he didn't have regrets, all those he loved knew it and he gave some peace to Tej'lie.

The strong sent of leather and metal surrounded him before, strong arms helped him to his feet. The innkeeper and warrior kept knocking against his long tusks as they worked around him to help him walk through the darkened inn toward the lake. He was eased into a small boat. "Bring him back if he collapses or becomes worse," the innkeeper whispered.

"He can barely walk, how can he get any worse?" the warrior demanded.

"Just keep an eye on him, Tej'lie has asked this of us," she whispered before pushing the boat from the dock. Each stroke of the oars brought him closer to the flicker on the other side of the lake. The thick stones sat in a circle around a living flame that warmed the area, the same energy rolled through the shaman as he was helped out of the skiff.

His mind was silenced. He found himself in the mist of the avatars of the elementals that he tried aligned himself with. He didn't feel anger or malice from them, he fell to his knees and tried to explain. He found himself unable to speak, he had no idea what he wanted to tell them.

The wind rolled over him caressing his body. "Fear not, we are not angry with you," the words whispered in his ears.

"Ease your guilt," a roar of flames commanded to his left.

"Open your heart," the water bubbled with love. "I have not seen such damage in the others."

"Let us heal," the earth rumbled softly. "The damage done."

Joft swallowed and lowered his head humbling and opening himself. The rush made him gasp, the weakness was driven out as his shattered spirit was stitched together under their expert care.

Minutes passed, maybe hours he didn't know when he found himself laying on his back staring at the darkened sky, the escort finally found enough courage to lean over him. "You dead?" the orc asked.

The shaman pushed himself up and shook his head in amazement. "No," he answered softly his gaze moving toward the avatars. "Thank you," he whispered as he rose to feet. He felt whole, solid more so than before. His understanding of his powers that he weld was a blessing from the elements, it too, felt stronger and surer.

The ride across the lake was a pleasant one, he could see the water spirits swimming under them. He smiled at them, the air was alive to him as it rushed over the lake surface ruffling his braids. He thanked the warrior before moving toward the inn, the campfire he passed flickered hotter until he was out of range.

He was about to burst with joy he felt inside. He curled up on the ground which was more comfortable than he ever dreamed. He was able to sleep with out the guilt or nightmares, he knew that his life was very much changed. In which ways it was unclear to him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Meeting Athrum

Athrum returned from a long hunt, her pack animal was heavily burdened with meat and hides. The other hunters helped her carry all the things into the storage hut and than made their ways to their homes. She ran her hand over her tail of hair which she had kept in a braid during the hunt, she sat down on the large log that sat around the large pit that held only warm coals. Her brain instantly went to the moment she had discovered the love of her life had a wife and they were sitting together on this very spot. One of the many events that had changed her life to this strange and lonely path. She had no children to tend, no hearth to keep nor no husband to keep warm at night.

Karga appeared at her side making her jump, the woman laughed at her. "We have a visitor," she stated quietly glancing toward the inn. "Went to the Throne and the guard said he was talking in a strange language to the elements there."

"Why are you telling me this?" Athrum asked letting her hand drop from her face. "There have been many travelers to our lands, since Thrall had visited Grandmother." Part of the reason she was always out on hunting trips, she couldn't handle all the strangeness that they brought to their lands. She was still heartbroken and needed time to find herself. Not that she had done any soul searching while hunting game. The other part, there wasn't a lot of clansmen able to do their part due to other responsibilities to the clan.

"Because he is ugly as all get out," she stated her eyes not moving from the dark inn. "Not like the green skinned orcs that have been running around here. Tall too, with tusks about half the length of my arm. All skin and bone." She wrinkled her nose with disgust.

"You really enjoy the whole gossip thing don't you."

"It isn't gossip, I am just spreading the news of what is going on," she snapped defensively, standing. "You are always in such a bad mood when you return."

"Because I am tired," Athrum whispered to the back of her clansmen. "Maybe if you helped do some of the hunting I wouldn't have to go out every time." She let out a breath and shook her head, Karga would just come up with some other strange reason she couldn't go out. Eventually, she would run out of reasons. Athrum was waiting for the day and find some way to enjoy it. She pushed her body off the log and returned to her parents house, and went straight to bed.

Joft woke in better spirits than he had been in many moons, he felt like his old self again. He sat up and stroked a tusk as he peered around the circular space. Most of the beds were now empty, the innkeeper was starting a fire in the pit in the middle of the room. She glanced over and gave him a nod. It took him a while to figure that she was indeed an orc with brown flesh. All those he had known were green due to the demon blood they consumed or something like that. He rose to his feet and moved toward her. "Good morning, shaman. Are you feeling better?" she asked in orcish.

"Dat I am, dank ya for ya help," he answered.

She blinked at him as her brain absorbed the thickly accent words and nodded. "You are free to go about the lands if you are not planning to leave."

"Nah, I want da look around," he said heading toward the doorway. He stepped out in the cool morning air, with a deep breath of gratitude. He was very happy he had listened to his cousin and her mate about traveling here. He mentally attuned himself with the spirits of the elements as he moved about the village.

Athrum stopped short near the family garden as the stranger was being shown around by the local shaman. She was giggling and carrying on like a love sick girl. Athrum's eyes took in the visitors long skinny, slightly hunched over body, it was strange and savage looking. Which oddly appealed to her, his gaze met hers for a long moment and he smiled around the insanely long tusks jetting from his jaw. She found herself returning the gesture than caught herself and went about her business. She didn't need this in her life. She just didn't need anything beyond her numbness.

After the long tour of the peaceful village, Joft thanked the shaman for her time and turned to leave. He found himself face to face with the young female who had smiled at him earlier. She was heavily burdened with a side of carcass she was bringing to the shaman's hut. "Get out of my way or I'll rip off your tusks and beat you with them," she threatened.

Joft stepped out of the way, the shaman inside was scolding the woman for her rude behavior. He kept walked out of the village and paused near the lake, his eyes fell upon the stone formation on the other side. He felt the peace and power that was still fresh from the night before. He closed his eyes and settled on the bank to listen to the elements around him. Soft footsteps approached and he shifted slightly, glancing over his shoulder at a different female. The female was much like any other orc that he had encountered, she was broad and stocky, her brown skin was lighter than most of the orcs here. Delicate tusks protruded from her lower jaw and she sported a full head of hair which was brushing her shoulders. "I hope you are not taken to dislike our rather rude Athrum," she said sitting beside him without being invited. "She has a thorn in her side the size of an cliffhoof."

"Is dat so? Who might you be, mon?"

"Karag," she said eyeing him with some intensity. "You talk funny."

Joft shook his head. "Be da language, ya know. Don't be worried about me, I be use to the harsh ways of da orc."

Karag hummed thoughtfully and jumped when her name was bellowed from near the village wall. She glanced over but didn't move to acknowledge the caller. "You have been around the orcs much than? Those strange green skinned ones?"

"All my life," he answered as the ignored orc thundered toward the pair. "Dey saved da Darkspear trolls from enslavement. Thrall be a force for good for my people, gave us a place to call home and an unity we call da Horde."

"You were slaves?"

The pair turned to the orc who had stopped in her tracks, her gaze shifted to Karag. "Your father is looking for you. Like I don't have enough to do now I have to play messenger." She made a gesture toward the village. "Go before I kick you there."

"Ahh, Athrum you are always a delight to have around."

"Maybe if you do your part in helping around here I wouldn't be so grumpy," she called after Karag's retreating form. Athrum glanced at the troll for a moment. A question lingered on her lips than she turned and walked away.

Joft frowned watching her, the woman was nothing but a bundle of harshness. He frowned as his gaze fell upon the water in front of him, it was getting old to find woman that was so out of touch of their gifts as females. Everyone wants to be so strong and unwilling to lean on another for aid.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: The Hunter

"What is this?" Athrum demanded as she approached the hunting party with a troll numbered among them.

"He offered to help with the hunt," one of the other side with a shrug than leaned closer to her. "I like to see him in action, wonder if his long limbs gets all tangled up."

"How does he fight with such long tusks anyway?" Another asked in not such a low voice.

Joft glanced their way and chuckled as he finished buckling his back, he pulled it on and straightened his body before turning to the others who was watching him. "Ya be ready, mon?" The three other orc's glanced at each other and shrugged their shoulders in unison. "Dan lets get dis tea party on da way."

Again the other glanced at each other before they headed out to the wild plains of Nagrand. The trip was made in silence save for an orc giving instructions to the troll about where to go in different regions in case he was caught out there by himself. Athrum wanted to complain about the noise the two were making and scaring all the game away, but they had another days walk before that would come into play.

Joft continued to learn about the land that had be so very gently touched by those who lived there. It was refreshing to see they had such a deep connection with nature around them, he could see why these people were so deep in their shamanic belief. It had been taught at a young age. It reminded him of the gentle tauren, they were also a great believers of being gentle to nature and only taking only what you need. A stop was called and everyone found a place to sit and wrestle out some food to chew on. Athrum kept walking for a few more feet before she sat down near the others, she continued to grumble under her breath about the slower pace they were taking.

"Ya all walk slower dan my gandmodder wif a limp."

Athrum's eyes narrowed. "You are the reason we are going so slow, foreigner."

"I keep up wif ya just fine, clansmen," he shot back. "I be seasoned, I be able to keep up wif you."

Athrum laughed at him. "I doubt it, you boney thing! You haven't got the muscle to fill a winroc's belly."

Joft's eyes narrowed. "Can and will."

"Uh no," someone whispered to Joft's left. "You just smacked a wasp hive with those words." The others laughed at the troll as Athrum rose to her feet and slung the pack on her shoulders. Joft mimicked her actions and the pair were off, the others scrambled to catch up.

Joft was firm his resolve not to be a hindrance to this party, as the day progressed Athrum pushed them harder and he could tell she was wearing out as well. She wasn't going to give up until they all dropped from exhaustion. She was taking this too far, whatever thorn Karag had mention had to be a lot bigger than a cliffhoof. He felt his regeneration kicking in several times to keep his body going, it had been a long time since he had pushed himself at such a pace. He was still recovering from a sickness of the spirit which wasn't helping him.

Darkness finally settled on the plains and Athrum finally called a rest, the other orc's was not too proud to groan and fall heavily upon the ground. They forwent making a camp or fire, they simply ate rations and slept.

Joft woke, he shivered against the chill of the cloudless night. Two of the orc males were snoring rather loudly, he let out a sigh and sat up reaching for his pack. He pulled free a totem and finished the rune on it and sent part of his will into the stick the object grew warm instantly and he stabbed it into the ground. His eyes moved over the ribbons of color and the odd lights that twinkled much like the stars that covered the skies over Durtor.

"Interesting trick," Athrum whispered from her bedroll she was propped on her elbow watching the troll.

"I be useful for more dan an axe," he answered softly. "Dat not be used much anymore wif all da fighting and murdering in da lands." He glanced over to see Athrum shifting slightly in her bed.

"Yea? Like what?"

"Healing and singing."

Athrum paused in her wrestle with her blanket and turned to the troll. "Singing?"

Joft nodded. "What ya tink a savage like me can't sing?"

"I have my doubts, with the way you speak it must be hard."

"I sing in Zandali da tongue of my people," he stated, realizing the snoring had stopped more eyes glittered from the soft glow of his totem.

"Might as well sing," a male said from the darkness.

Joft closed his eyes and picked one of his favorite haunting tunes, his voice was deep and sharp against the stillness. The rhythm of the song would had gone better with the pounding of drums, his native language made the song flow naturally and pounded with the tale of two hearts torn asunder forever lost to each other. Once the last note died from his lips the stillness of the night returned, all the orcs were sitting up watching him with interest.

"That one has personal meaning for you," Athrum whispered after a long while. "What was it about?"

"A lost heart to one dat couldn't be had."

"You love someone you cannot have than?" one of the males asked.

"Nah, I be in love with an idea I not find." One of them laughed and Joft glanced up at him. "You tink dat funny do you?"

"What is it you cannot find, troll?"

Joft glanced at Athrum. "A woman who be wanting a family wif me," he reached over and plucked the dying totem from the ground and blew on the heated runes until they were cool enough to stuff back in his backpack. He slipped back into his bed. "Sorry ta keep ya awake. Morning comes quickly."

Athrum listened as the others settled and were asleep in record time, she tried to return to the bliss of slumber but it would not come. His words echoed her own aching soul. She could not find that person either, tears stung her eyes as she pulled her blanket over her head. She wanted to hate him for opening that wound, she didn't have the will to do it. He was hurting like she was, she felt it in the heaviness of his tone.

Joft watched as the others were out in the long grasses creeping up on their selected targets. His eyes kept wandering to Athrum who was almost close enough to the talbuk. With practiced ease the woman notched her arrow and braced her muscular body, with the patience of stone she waited for the creature to return to line of sight before letting the arrow fly. The creature made a noise and started charging her, Joft jumped to his feet when she did nothing save notch another arrow. Those sharp hooves and horns were getting dangerously close when the second arrow was released. The creature tripped, Athrum dropped her bow and ran toward the crying talbuk and ended the life with a prayer of thanks to the animal.

Athrum finished with the animal glancing up to find the troll turning away from the hill he had been standing on. Puzzlement ran over her face for an instant before she continued to deal with the animal. She brought the packaged beast to the camp finding another of the party already had brought down a talbuk. "Do you know what the troll was doing on the hill?"

"Watching you, he was on his feet when the talbuk was charging you."

"What?" She snorted as her stomach twisted. "I was perfectly safe."

"I know that," he answered with a shrug and continued readying his kill for travel.

Joft watched the animals before him, he didn't have the bow and arrows to fall back on. He just had his weapons and the elements, he took a deep breath and wondered if he could kill it without too much damage to the meat. He wasn't going back empty handed that was for sure, he felt he had to prove himself now that he said he could keep up with the others.

Lightening leapt from his palms and slammed against the nearest talbuk which arched over to the next animal. He cursed under his breath as he imbued his weapons with the powers of wind and fire. The sharp hooves hit hard, and the horns tore chunks out of his arms. He was able to beat the creature back and eventually kill it, the shaman shook his head at the thoughtlessness of his actions. He meant only to bring one down, now he had to carry two back to camp. He ignored his healing flesh as he worked with the animals to prepare them to be carried to camp. It was a messy business but it would allow the meat to survive the trip back better. He was really glad after the fifth time blood squirted at his face that they had camped near a water source.

"Troll," Athrum called out and laughed seeing his general state. "You have blood from head to toe."

"A killer I be," he stated with a shrug. "Dis part, not so much."

Athrum knelt beside him and put her hand on his healing arm, she gave him a puzzled look and he snorted. "Let me show you," she said softly handing him her knife. She pointed out ways to avoid the blood splattering all over she was very knowledge about the methods of carving the meat and bone.

He cut his hand with her insanely sharp knife, he pulled away dropping the weapon as he put pressure on the palm of his hand. She moved toward him quickly and forced his hands apart. "Let me see," she ordered. "Did you cut the bone?"

"I tink I cut through da hand," he stated angrily, they wrestled a bit before he would give up his hold on the wound. "Ya going make me bleed to deaf."

"Don't be such a whiner," she said freeing some bandages from her hip pack and blotted it on the wound in effort to see the damage done. The flesh knitted right before her eyes her jaw dropped when the wound sealed, her gaze went to his face. "You used healing spells?"

"Nah, we trolls heals fast, we able ta regenerate lost limbs in a few days. Makes us good for dangerous work." Her touch grew soft against his three fingered hand, her brown skin contrasted against his blue. She looked like she was going to burst into tears, she released him suddenly and turned her attention to the talbuk.

"We better finish this before it grows to dark."

Joft nodded wondering what had been going through that mind of hers. They carried the animals to camp and packaged them with the rest of the meat and tethered it to the tree. Joft excused himself he moved toward the small lake, he glanced back before stripping down and slipping into the water. He scrubbed his face and arms clean before taking a swim in the cool water, soon there after he dealt with his bloody armor. A cry broke through the air causing Joft to jump and glance around, a brown body leapt off the outcropping and balled up as it fell toward the lake. The splash was a glorious wave of destruction that pleased the orc who laughed as soon as his head poked out of the water. The second male announced his splash would be much bigger than that and moved to take a running leap as the orc in the water swam out of the way.

Joft laughed as the second was much the same as the first, the two argued about which was bigger. They looked to Joft to settle the argument. "Couldn't see water was in my eyes both times," this seemed to still their quarrel since the troll was no where near the splash zone.

The small party left the next morning heavily burdened by the meat, they stopped several times to hunt smaller game and to rest. The males grew more talkative after knowing that Joft could pull his own weight and was willing to go on another hunting trip despite Athrum's treatment.

Athrum was quiet for most of the trip back, her mind reeling from all she had learned from the troll. He had a strength she lacked, she saw it when he laughed and talked with the others. She knew he was aching like she was because of the loss they felt, yet he was not bitter he kept his voice and actions light. She couldn't figure out where he found the power to do that.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Raid

They were welcomed by the clan who eagerly relieved the burden of meat from the hunting parties backs. Joft was glad to have the extra weight lifted from his shoulders, he returned his things to the inn. He stood in the doorway over looking the lake he tenderly stroked the left tusk that bore the golden band around it. The band was an embellishment he saved up when he first started on the path of a Shaman. It took him many seasons to finally obtain enough gold to purchase it, he chuckled to himself. He ate very lean after that but it had been worth it.

Later that night, Joft was leaning against a long near the bonfire listening tales of the great warriors and hunters of clans long since passed as he fumbled to work on a few of his braids. He took notice of Athrum who approached the group, she was wearing a simple hide skirt and shirt. The males gave her room to sit on the log, he tried not to notice how the firelight reflected in those brown eyes. The speaker finished his tale about before the demons had torn the clans apart and sat down to eat.

"Shaman tell us a tale from your clan," someone shouted and everyone peered at Joft he dropped a braid and glanced around at the expecting faces. The troll rose to his feet his mind shuffling through many stories he could tell. The soft tang of warning whipped up his spine, Joft rose to his full height his amber eyes staring intensely toward the mountain, the ground vibrated unnaturally under his feet. No elemental power echoed the shaking. "Someting's coming. Big and fast."

The group quickly grabbed their weapons and hurried toward the western gates, Joft quick on their heels. Energizing his weapons with two chosen elements, he glanced over to Athrum who was clutching a shield and axe. The other, Karga, was no where to be found. "Here they come," one warned.

"Where do these things keep coming from?" Athrum demanded. "It is like they spawn out of nowhere."

Joft glanced at her and snorted, he had always wondered that himself about the countless of enemies he had slain for the cause of the Horde. He touched tenderly his beloved tusk thoughtfully as a parade of memories whisked through his mind.

A pack of five orges were heading straight for the them, with a wild hungry look set in their eyes. The advancing party was caught off guard to have their raid met, but it didn't slow them down much. Many voices were raised with a battle cry as the orc's rushed toward their enemies. Joft ran to his pack to grab his totems and had to hurry to catch up, he danced and dodged around one of the clubs as he focused on finishing the rune on his earth totem. He threw it and the strong totem dug into the earth naturally, energy and strength crackled through the ground giving the defenders a boost.

Joft was able to get close enough to actually sink his blades into the thick hide of the orge. The enhancement of the blades sent a extra shock through the torn flesh, the infected orge screamed and dropped his club. The orges' fleshy hand batted the troll away which tore the unwanted weapons out of his gut.

Joft dropped his weapons to be able to land without slicing his own hide with his blades. His left knee slammed hard on the ground before the other outstretched limbs connected. He felt the thunder of each step of the orge chasing him, his fingers wrapped around the nearest hilt as he turned toward the advancing creature. The swing of the orge's club arched toward his face, he threw his head back. His tuck shattered against the blow, the pain soared to his toes. He landed hard on his back gasping in shock, his hand swept over his face picking up blood and white fragments of the tusks.

The pain slipped away quickly as he wiped the blood on his tabard, he felt the wind whispering against an object heading straight toward him. Joft rolled and a club slammed on the ground where he had just been occupying. Dust and rocks pelted him as he tried to see around the grime that stung his eyes as he once again to gain his weapons and some ground against the orge who had him pinned in such a dangerous spot. He was halfway to his feet, planning to jump and roll to gain some distance between him and the orge.

"Troll," Athrum shouted. "Get down."

He flattened finding one of his lost blades under him, the air of a near miss rolled inches from his back. Athrum slammed her axe in the back of the orge's head, the creature turned to her yanking the handle from her grip. She used her shield to block the blows from the orge as she lead the half dead creature away from the shaman. Soon, her back pressed against the thick wall of the village unable to go one way or the other as the orge's large hands were beating the stuffing out of her. She fought back the best she could, really wanting to rip her axe out of the creature's skull so she could break his head wide open.

Joft found his senses and weapons, he ran after the orge that had shattered his beautiful tusk. He vaulted swinging both of his weapons and coming down hard on the creatures back and shoulders. He kept digging the blades in repeatedly unable to satisfy the outrage, Athrum had to physically removed him. "Save it for the others," she stated before tearing her axe free of the thick skull.

The two rushed into the fray of the remaining four orges who were holding their own pretty well, one fell with a large crash. The spike at the end of the club sliced through a guards chest, the orc stumbled back as rivers of blood cascaded down him. He fell to his knees watching his life force draining quickly from him. Joft ran toward him warming up a healing spell, they were not powerful but at least it would stabilize the guard until the clan shamans could tend to him. Just as he released the healing energies a club slammed against his left side nearly breaking his arm. He staggered to keep himself standing, giving the orge another perfect hit to his face breaking several teeth on his left side tearing his cheek and nose with the spikes that followed the head of the club. Blindly, he balled up his fury and lashed out in with a bolt of lightening which arched toward the monster.

Athrum held ran toward the troll when the ogre fell on the ground twitching. The powerful energy surrounding the now dead body caused her hair stand on end. Her gaze shifted to the shaman who was building another spell whispering to himself as he did. The picture of him with blood trickling large gaping wounds and from the broken tusks, still finding the strength to cast spells, caused her pause.

"Element strike true towards those that would hurt these people," he called in his native language. The ball of lightening crackled as it sprang from his palms arching perfectly toward the nearest live ogre, the smell of burnt flesh permeated the air as another of the raiding party fell victim to the shaman's power. Joft stepped forward to catch his balance long enough to see the orge hit the ground. His eyes rolled to his where Athrum stood with such a look upon her face one he could not unravel, his body roaring with such pain. His face and arm were attempting to fix the wounds, his brain was numb. His body rebelled and his knees gave out.

"Troll," Athrum whispered her heart sank with his fall, whatever he yelled sounded like a last words she had heard others shout before they died upon the battlefield. She gritted her teeth and ran back into the fray. He was a clear reminder of all she had lost, but there was something more she didn't want to admit. Another chance was lost to her, she felt the fall of the troll with her whole soul, and she turned from the still body. Raising her weapon up she let out a bestial battle cry tore from her throat with underline hint of emotional torment. She ran into the fray with murderous intensions in her heart.

Her rage lasted longer than the ogres, she watched the last one fleeing before them and part of her wanted to chase after it and kill it repeatedly. The ogres never even set a toe past the first line. Thanks to the early warning, Joft had given. Behind her she sensed the others of the villages rushing toward the still bodies of the clansmen. The air was thick with healing energy as she turned slowly. The clan's shaman was dropping next to the troll, her fingers touching his neck. Athrum held her breath, the older woman's gaze met hers and she beckoned her over. "Athrum," the female shaman. "Quickly."

The warrior dropped her axe and shield as she hurried toward the troll's side, her gaze latched on his still face. The troll moaned so full of pain it caused her heart to shutter, hope exploded inside her heart causing her stomach to turn. Life started to return to his form, she swallowed hard as tears stung her eyes. She covered up the strange release and knelt beside the blue figure taking in the full damage. Both tusks had been shattered, part of his face and nose were torn so badly he was barely recognizable.

"Help me get him inside so I can heal him properly," the shaman ordered, freeing the totem from the ground she whispered to it and the power slowly ebbed out of it. "He is going to need a lot of needle work to get him to rights before I can use any spells on him."

The troll wasn't working well with Athrum, he was limp and unresponsive. She had to put the troll over her shoulders holding on an arm and a leg as she made her way into the clans land. He was surprisingly heavy, for one who seemed so thin.

"Look," Karga yelled pointing to Athrum. "She is finally carrying the mantle of a shaman!" The laughter rolled from the others and Athrum gritted her teeth. In the mist of her murderous thoughts, she accidentally slammed the trolls head on the frame of the doorway, she muttered an apology as she eased them carefully through. She eased the male off her shoulders with a grunt and knelt beside him as he whimpered.

The shaman touched the one tusk that was still protruding from the trolls mouth it flaked and broke under her fingertips. "I think we are going to have to just cut them off or they will cause him much pain."

"No," Joft whimpered, half aware of what was going on around him. His hand swept through the air in random directions. Athrum snagged his hand from the air and held it against her chest smearing more orge blood on to him.

"Hold him before he comes to his senses completely," she said finding the small saw that she kept for such purposes. More than once she had to take a tusk from her clansmen to keep them from a sickness she had witnessed.

"Are you sure?" Athrum asked as the other knelt near the trolls face. She tried several different ways to keep the troll still, only finding her straddling his chest pinning his arms against his sides.

"Long before you were born, an orc had shattered a tusk while he was out hunting, he didn't do anything with it thinking it would heal on its own. When he returned many days later his whole jaw was tender with infection, he was asked many times if he wanted healing but he refused."

The two women adjusted the mumbling troll opening his mouth and stilling his head. "What happened to him?"

"His jaw kept ballooning and swelling until he wasn't able to eat, he died a few mornings later in his hut."

Athrum felt Joft tensing under her strong hold as the saw bit into the right tusk, he started fighting but she held him fast. The bone was flanking and splintering under the blade, she kept going deeper to the root of the tusk until she was able to find a solid part. It was very close to the gum line, she knew it had to be done. Joft screamed and fought against the mistreatment, Athrum was having a hard time holding him. She kept praying that he would pass out as tears streamed down her cheeks. He fell limp under her, she lifted her body off his as the shaman paused the treatment. "Hurry, he is out," she pleaded.

The two tusks were sawed evenly and the bleeding stopped before the shaman could cauterize the wounds. She worked on the ripped flesh of the nose and cheek not fully aware of the trolls quick regeneration. She ordered Athrum to bring clean water to wash the blood and grime off Joft's face, Athrum ran to the water barrow behind the hut and filled the pail with the water. She paused when her eyes landed upon the flickering light from the Throne across the lake. "Be with him," she whispered. "Carry him in his moment of distress. Don't, please, don't forsake him." She returned inside watching the older woman clean the gashes on his cheek and nose in some attempt to set the flesh right.

Athrum helped roll the troll this way and that so the healer could check for broken bones. "He seems at rights in his bones, we will have to keep an eye for internal bleeding," she whispered closing her eyes and performed the quick ritual of the healing spell. "Stay with him," she whispered as she rose to find a blanket in the back.

Athrum drew closer studying the massive change in the troll, without the tusks he looked a little less savage. She brushed off bits of bone from his cheek that had been missed in the hurried cleaning. She moved her fingers over his lips with a frown, wondering if they would grow back in a few days. She took a moment to feel the velvet softness of his skin and the strong pulse under his neck. She recalled the moment her eyes landed on his stranger, the warm smile he had given and she had not returned.

The voice of Karag outside the hut brought the rest of reality back to Athrum. "You will carry a mantle of a powerful shaman," she whispered the prophecy that she had memorized from the day of her naming. Karga's words rambled through her brain, she wanted to find and punch the female. Her gaze fell upon the peaceful troll face that was nestled against her hand. "I will carry," she whispered. "I had," She jumped to her feet. "No. Nonononono." Athrum ran out of the hut straight to her room, she flung the trunk open and tossed things out until she found the small wooden case that held all her important scrolls. Hastily, she unrolled the oldest one of the bunch. She didn't need to read the words printed there, she memorized what it had said long ago.

"I give you a name and a blessing, from this day forth you shall be called Athrum. You will be a powerful instrument of good for your clansmen. You will heed the call set forth before you, and become a force most powerful.

When all seems lost you will carry a mantle of a powerful shaman. You will cling to that strength, this is the only way you shall find peace and the strength to protect your clan. Lies," she growled. "I have not been able to find peace nor can I carry a shaman's mantle." She closed her eyes and lowered her head torn between crying her thanks to saving his life and her own twisted anger toward the lies that she had tried to a line herself to.

"Athrum? Where did that girl go?" The clan shaman demanded, she shook her head and unfolded the blanket easing it around the sleeping shaman on the mat.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Missing pieces

Joft groaned as he sat up and was acutely aware of his missing pieces, a hand swept over his mouth. It felt strange to have no tusks taking up his jaw, his head felt lighter and the pull not so hard on his neck and shoulders. His mouth wasn't so full, he slid his tongue over the voids in his mouth tasting blood and finding bits of his once glorious tusks. His gaze rose to the clan shaman as she entered the room, his fingers still lingering on his lips. "What happened?" His words slurred slightly from the extra room in his mouth.

"You're awake, I thought you would be sleeping for another couple hours." The shaman said sitting near the troll, she inspected her work. "You heal faster than I had expected," she sat aside the mug she had been carrying and prodded the healing flesh. The deep scars were set permanently into his features of his face. "It seems you come here to get yourself healed only to become more damaged."

"Dis be physical," he answered shifting his weight a bit to ease the discomfort in his hip. "I can cure dat wif no problem, I be having problems wif my spirit. I wasn't able ta fix dat. I came here ta speak ta da elements."

"You are a shaman, Joft," she whispered cupping his chin in her hand her eyes capturing his. "You can speak to them anywhere. They want to help you." She released him as the troll turned his face away, she let out a sigh and patting his shoulder. "It is sometimes hard for us to let down those barriers to hear their whisperings. They do now always come in visions and thunderous roars."

"I be unable heal myself where I be," he whispered after a long while. "I asked for it, I be working wif all my powers to fix da damage. Still, I be unable to shake it." Joft's frown deepened, he knew she spoke the truth about being able to contact his elements from where ever he was. There was other things in his way, distractions he had placed in the path. All the battles for one, he had barely time to commune with the elements or heal his spirit. He could see that now, he let out a breath. He had poisoned his own heart with his lack of tending to the spiritual side. His hand dropped to his lap, the cost of this lesson was great.

"Than you did the right thing to come, sometimes we have to make a journey to clear our minds from our troubles, so that we can hear those whisperings. Do you regret coming here?"

Joft rose his gaze to meet hers. "No," he touched his tusk-less mouth once again. "No, I not be sorry I came."

"Good, I think you should rest and recuperate from the fight. You are welcome to stay here I have room. But I have others I need to tend to as well."

Joft's heart felt heavy and guilt bubbled in his gut. He had always thought of himself a powerful source of strength for others to lean on. It was a known fact that one could not help if their own spiritual well was dry. "Is dere anything I can do? My healing be a little weak, but it be yours if ya need it."

She smiled and straightened. "I will keep that in mind, Joft. Get some rest."

Joft rose from the floor mat, a soft knock on the door caused the two shaman to pause. The owner of the house stepped closer and pushed back the hide door. "Yes?"

"Is the troll alright?" a male asked. "I picked up his weapons from the battlefield."

"He healing nicely, are you busy? You could escort him to the inn and find him some food?" The clan shaman asked waving for Joft to come to her. Joft saw the concern on her face, he peered, he peered at the orc in the doorway.

The surprised male half grinned as he stepped back to allow the troll to stoop through the entryway. His own chest wound still healing from the array of spells that had been cast on him, even though the male appeared that he might keel over at any second he was still up and about. "Good," he said handing the weapons over. "It is always a sign of a good solider who can walk after such a beating."

The troll took his weapons with a soft word of thanks before glancing at the female shaman. The unspoken plea was almost shouting at him, he wasn't up for entertaining some head strong warrior who didn't have the sense to rest. Clearly, this was would help and he did offer his services. Joft turned to the male and let an easy grin slip over his lips. "Food dan, it will make tings better," he announced.

"Yes," the orc said wiping a hand over his brow. "I think you are right."

The two males wander off in the hunt for nourishment, which was found in ready supply at the hut of the cook. The two loaded their plates and sat near the bonfire in the middle of the village. They didn't talk much as they plowed through the food, words were not really necessary. The companionship of the other was enough to suit their needs.

Joft ended up escorting the orc warrior home and helped his wife ease the stubborn fool into bed. "He ate wif me."

"You were able to do more than I, this night. I hope he sleeps and gives time for the spells to work."

Joft nodded and left the couple to their privacy, he strolled up the hill toward the inn and waved at the keeper who pointed to the bed he had been using. Her offer of food was declined and he stretched out on the hammock his long limbs spilling to the floor. He stared at the ceiling for a long while before boredom gripped him fully. He knew he should be sleeping or something, but he was restless. He untangled himself from the hammock and slipped out of the back and leaned against the building watching the gentle waves wash up on the small shore around the lake.

He touched his the void of his tusks once again, those were the one part that would not regenerate quickly. He missed them, he didn't feel like a troll without his tusks. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned from all of this, he couldn't see what it would be. He closed his eyes trying to sort it all out.

The ache in his hip forced him up and moving again, he strolled around the lake. Scooping up a few pebbles and toyed with them, he paused to see a figure standing on the shore. A scroll was half crumbled in her hand, Athrum turned tears glistening in the light from the torches in the village.

"It's not fair," she stated, than waved the abused scroll at him. "Why do they mock me? Why do they promise me power and not deliver when I do all I can?"

"Who?" He asked moving closer to her. "Who be mocking you?"

"The shamans. The elements. The spirits. They all lie to me." She waved it at him again and threw it on the ground. "I lost everything because I followed them. I hate them! I hate you," she ran away into the darkened plains.

Joft picked up the scroll and carefully smoothed it out and read what had been scribed on it. He frowned at the vagueness of the words and how easily a young mind could take it so many different ways. He took after her, she was in no frame of mind to be out alone. She was easy to track, her sobbing and yelling made it easy to pinpoint where she was. She turned when he approached, she shoved him back. "I said I hate you, go away."

"I be going nowhere, Addrum." He said firmly.

She grabbed a branch and ripped it off the tree and started swinging, Joft was forced duck and dodged her wild attempts a few landed hard against his tired boy. He had to do several back flips to keep out of the way of her makeshift weapon. She swung so hard it caused her to stumble and fall to her knees, sobbing she pounded the branch on the ground until it broke in several pieces.

Joft wrapped his long arms around her in effort to comfort her. Only to find out she was not done with her rage, she turned on him again and the pair wrestled on the muddy shore for a good while until he was able to pin her safely. "I hate you. I hate you, troll," she hissed unable to break his hold on her.

"Why, Addrum?" He whispered easing the grip on her, she rolled onto her side her frame racked with sobs. Joft touched brushed her braid away from her face and helped her sit up. "Tell me."

"You are the shaman I was suppose to be," she moaned and buried her face in his chest, his hand gently rubbed her back. "I am supposed to be powerful and wise. To help my clan with my power." She sat up and began to recite. "I give you a name and a blessing, from this day forth you shall be called Athrum. You will be a powerful instrument of good for your clansmen. You will heed the call set forth before you, and become a force most powerful. When all seems lost you will carry a mantle of a powerful shaman. You will cling to that strength, this is the only way you shall find peace and the strength to protect your clan."

"You be a powerful instrument of good. You provide food and protection for dems that live in da clan. Da call didn't say shaman."

She pushed away from him and glared at him. "It says when all seems lost you will carry a mantle of a powerful shaman."

He held up a finger. "Carry."

"But…" she whispered confused for the first time. "How can I find peace without the mantle?"

"It be possible it be not yours," he whispered and eased himself back into a comfortable sitting position watching her carefully.

Athrum closed her eyes, her muddy hands pressed against her face. "I want to find peace, Joft. I hate being so numb. I am so lost and confused."

"Dan cling to my strength for a while, girl," he whispered, she turned and peered at him still lost. "I be not an orc shaman, but I am one. Just 'til ya find your own."

"I," she started unsure once again. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You be doing it for a long time, Addrum. You be fulfilling dat and more, I be sure."

Her head lifted slightly and she peeked at him. "You think so?"

"I do," he answered.

Athrum's gaze swept over the troll for a long moment as the noises of the night rushed into the emptiness of the silence. She felt the hints of peace entering her soul as she gazed upon the tall troll, she knew she shouldn't have acted so badly to someone who had wanted to help her. "I am sorry, troll. I don't hate you."

"It be alright," he answered, rubbing his chest. "I know for da next time to keep ya from weapons of any kind."

Athrum chuckled rubbing her grubby hands over her partially bald head, she reached over and pushed him playfully. "Can you sing that song about lost things for me?"

Joft gave her a nod and took a deep breath and let the haunting story unfold from his lips.


End file.
